Just another ordinary day...

It's October 11th. There's nothing particularly special about this day for most people, usually. Oh, this year, it also happens to be Columbus Day, so I couldn't mail out the birthday and anniversary cards or package I wanted to send. Stupid New World discoverer. He was a genocidal maniac anyway. Couldn't navigate his way to the West Indies, that's for sure.

Boy, I sound bitter about an explorer, don't I?

My foul mood really has nothing to do with poor old misguided Christopher C.

More recent events (as in, three years ago), my "new world" began. It was my introduction to the world of childhood Cancer. It was the day I learned a new ninety-frickin'-five cent word, "Neuroblastoma."

Yadda, yadda, yadda, so I'm bald now.

Well, technically speaking, I have about 3/4" of growth, but it's still looking pretty freaky-deaky fierce on my noggin. Almost a month ago, I shaved my head alongside of my teammates from 46 Mommas Shave for the Brave for the St. Baldrick's Foundation. It felt good, even though it felt terrible. It felt peaceful, even though I know I'm still at war.

It's only hair.

It's only ego.

These are small sacrifices for what we hope will yield great results for the childhood Cancer community as a whole. We hope.
We hope.

Grayson and Zoey have no idea that Mommy despises this date. They accepted Mommy's new haircut without skipping a beat. Grayson tells me I look beautiful (but he didn't trust my judgment when I took him to the barber's a few weeks after I got back. "I want some hair, Mommy. I want it longer than yours.") Zoey giggles and chortles when lift her and tickle her tummy with the top of my head.

Today was just another day of our regularly routined playdates, naps, meals, errands, and family fun.

Maybe someday they'll realize that behind Mommy's smiles, behind her enthusiasm and energy, there are thousands of screams, thousands of points of pain, thousands of muscles and nerves twitching to maintain themselves, to hold the body and spirit together through the 24 hours that comprise 10/11.

Nah. They shouldn't have to know. They should just be able to enjoy their childhoods, their lives. They deserve to feel only the love, not the pain they'll never truly understand. They shouldn't have to.

Meanwhile, I'll just stay thankful for them, for Rick, for my family and friends. I'll keep smiling, laughing, and hoping our efforts to honor Arden's memory and the lives of all the others are not in vain. I'll remind myself to look beyond my pain, my grief. It's just another day without her, after all.